The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras

CHAPTER IX

ANOTHER LETTER

The Polar Circle was crossed at last; on the 30th of April, at midday, the Forward passed by Holsteinborg; picturesque mountains arose in the east. The sea appeared almost free of ice, or, more exactly, the ice could be avoided. The wind was from the southeast, and the brig, under foresail, staysail, and topsails, sailed up Baffin's Bay.

That day was exceptionally calm and the crew was able to get some rest; numerous birds were swimming and flying about the ship; among others, the doctor noticed some wild birds which were very like teal, with black neck, wings, and back, and a white breast; they were continually diving, and often remained more than forty seconds under water.

This day would not have been marked by any new incident, if the following extraordinary fact had not taken place.

At six o'clock in the morning, on returning to his cabin after his watch was over, Richard Shandon found on his table a letter, addressed as follows: —

Shandon could not believe his eyes; but before reading it, he summoned the doctor, James Wall, and the boatswain, and showed them the letter.

"It's getting interesting," said Johnson.

"It's delightful," thought the doctor.

"Well," cried Shandon, "at last we shall know his secret."

He tore open the envelope rapidly, and read the following: —

COMMANDER: The captain of the Forward is satisfied with the coolness, skill, and courage which the crew, officers, and you, yourself, have shown of late; he begs of you to express his thanks to the crew.

Be good enough to sail due north towards Melville Bay, and thence try to penetrate into Smith's Sound.

"And is that all?" cried the doctor.

"That's all," answered Shandon.

The letter fell from his hands.

"Well," said Wall, "this imaginary captain says nothing about coming on board. I don't believe he ever will."

"But how did this letter get here?" asked Johnson.

Shandon was silent.

"Mr. Wall is right," answered the doctor, who had picked up the letter, and who was turning it over with hands as well as in his mind. "The captain won't come on board, and for an excellent reason."

"What is it?" asked Shandon, quickly.

"Because he's on board now," answered the doctor, simply.

"Now!" exclaimed Shandon, "what do you mean?"

"How else can you explain the arrival of this letter?"

Johnson nodded approvingly.

"Impossible!" said Shandon, warmly. "I know all the men in the crew; can he have smuggled himself into their number since we left? It's impossible, I tell you. For more than two years I've seen every one of them more than a hundred times in Liverpool; so your conjecture, Doctor, is untenable."

"Well, what do you admit, Shandon?"

"Everything, except that. I admit that the captain or some tool of his, for all I know, may have taken advantage of the darkness, the mist, or whatever you please, to slip on board; we are not far from shore; there are the kayaks of the Esquimaux which could get through the ice without our seeing them; so some one may have come on board the ship, left the letter, – the fog was thick enough to make this possible."

"And to prevent them from seeing the brig," answered the doctor; "if we didn't see the intruder slip aboard the Forward, how could he see the Forward in the fog?"

"That's true," said Johnson.

"So I return to my explanation," said the doctor; "what do you think of it, Shandon?"

"Whatever you please," answered Shandon, hotly, "except that the man is on board."

"Perhaps," added Wall, "there is some man in the crew who is acting under his instructions."

"Perhaps," said the doctor.

"But who can it be?" asked Shandon. "I've known all my men for a long time."

"At any rate," resumed Johnson, "if this captain presents himself, whether as man or devil, we shall receive him; but there's something else to be drawn from this letter."

"What is that?" asked Shandon.

"It is that we must go not only into Melville Bay, but also into Smith's Sound."

"You are right," said the doctor.

"Smith's Sound," repeated Shandon, mechanically.

"So it's very plain," continued Johnson, "that the Forward is not intended to seek the Northwest Passage, since we leave to the left, the only way towards it, that is to say, Lancaster Sound. This would seem to promise a difficult journey in unknown seas."

"Yes, Smith's Sound," replied Shandon; "that's the route Kane, the American, took in 1853, and it was full of dangers. For a long time he was given up for lost. Well, if we must go, we'll go. But how far? To the Pole?"

"And why not?" cried the doctor.

The mention of such a foolhardy attempt made the boatswain shrug his shoulders.

"Well," said James Wall, "to come back to the captain, if he exists. I don't see that there are any places on the coast of Greenland except Disco and Upernavik, where he can be waiting for us; in a few days that question will be settled."

"But," asked the doctor of Shandon, "are you not going to tell the crew about this letter?"

"With the commander's permission," answered Johnson, "I should not do so."

"And why not?" asked Shandon.

"Because everything mysterious and extraordinary tends to discourage the men; they are already very much troubled, as it is, about the nature of the journey. Now, if any supernatural circumstances should become known, it might be harmful, and perhaps at a critical moment we should not be able to count on them. What do you think, Commander?"

"And what do you think, Doctor?" asked Shandon.

"Boatswain Johnson seems to me to reason well," answered the doctor.

"And you, James?"

"Having no better opinion, I agree with these gentlemen."

Shandon reflected for a few minutes; he reread the letter attentively.

"Gentlemen," said he, "your opinion is certainly worthy of respect, but I cannot adopt it."

"Why not, Shandon?" asked the doctor.

"Because the instructions in this letter are formal; it tells me to give the captain's thanks to the crew; now, hitherto I have strictly obeyed his orders, in whatever way they have been given to me, and I cannot – "

"Still – " interposed Johnson, who had a warrantable dread of the effect of such communications on the men's spirits.

"My dear Johnson," said Shandon, "I understand your objection; your reasons are very good, but read that: —

"He begs of you to express his thanks to the crew."

"Do as he bids," replied Johnson, who was always a strict disciplinarian. "Shall I assemble the crew on deck?"

"Yes," answered Shandon.

The news of a message from the captain was immediately whispered throughout the ship. The sailors took their station without delay, and the commander read aloud the mysterious letter.

It was received with dead silence; the crew separated under the influence of a thousand suppositions; Clifton had plenty of material for any superstitious vagaries; a great deal was ascribed by him to the dog-captain, and he never failed to salute him every time he met him.

"Didn't I tell you," he used to say to the sailors, "that he knew how to write?"

No one made any answer, and even Bell, the carpenter, would have found it hard to reply.

Nevertheless, it was plain to every one, that if the captain was not on board, his shade or spirit was watching them; henceforth, the wisest kept their opinions to themselves.

At midday of May 1st, their observation showed them that they were in latitude 68° and longitude 56° 32'. The temperature had risen, the thermometer standing at 25° above zero.

The doctor amused himself with watching the gambols of a she-bear and two cubs on some pack-ice near the shore. Accompanied by Wall and Simpson, he tried to chase them in a canoe; but she was in a very peaceful mood, and ran away with her young, so that the doctor had to give up his attempt.

During the night a favorable breeze carried them well to the north, and soon the lofty mountains of Disco were peering above the horizon; Godharn Bay, where the governor of the Danish settlements lived, was left on the right. Shandon did not consider it necessary to land, and he soon passed by the canoes of the Esquimaux, who had put out to meet him.

The island of Disco is also called Whale Island; it is from here that, on the 12th of July, 1845, Sir John Franklin wrote to the Admiralty for the last time, and it was also here that Captain MacClintock stopped on his way back, bringing too sure proofs of the loss of that expedition.

This coincidence was not unknown to the doctor; the place was one of sad memories, but soon the heights of Disco were lost to view.

There were many icebergs on its shores, which no thaws ever melt away; this gives the island a singular appearance from the sea.

The next day, at about three o'clock, Sanderson's Hope appeared in the northeast; land lay about fifteen miles to starboard; the mountains appeared of a dusky red hue. During the evening many fin-backs were seen playing in the ice, and occasionally blowing.

It was in the night of May 3d, that the doctor for the first time saw the sun touch the horizon without setting; since January 31st its orbit had been getting longer every day, and now there was unbroken daylight.

For those who were unaccustomed to it, this continuance of the day is a cause of perpetual surprise, and even of weariness; it is difficult to believe how necessary the darkness of the night is for the eyes; the doctor actually suffered from the continual brilliancy, which was increased by the reflection from the ice.

May 5th the Forward passed the sixty-second parallel.10 Two months later they would have met numerous whalers in these latitudes; but the straits were not yet free enough to allow easy ingress into Baffin's Bay.

The next day, the brig, after passing Woman's Island, came in sight of Upernavik, the northernmost station of Denmark in these lands.

CHAPTER X

DANGEROUS SAILING

Shandon, Dr. Clawbonny, Johnson, Foker, and Strong, the cook, got into one of the boats and made their way to shore.

The Governor, his wife and five children, all Esquimaux, received their visitors kindly. The doctor, who was the philologist of the party, knew enough Danish to establish friendly relations; moreover, Foker, the interpreter of the party as well as ice-master, knew a dozen or two words of the language of the Greenlanders, and with that number of words one can express a great deal, if he is not too ambitious.

The Governor was born on the island of Disco, and he has never left the place;11 he did the honors of his capital, which consisted of three wooden houses, for himself and the Lutheran minister, of a school, and shops which were supplied by what was cast upon the shore from wrecked ships. The rest of the town consisted of snow huts, into which the Esquimaux crawl through a single opening.

A great part of the population came out to meet the Forward, and more than one of them went as far as the middle of the bay in his kayak, fifteen feet long and two broad at the widest part.

The doctor knew that the word Esquimaux meant "eater of raw fish"; but he knew too that this name is considered an insult in this country, so he forbore giving it to the inhabitants of Greenland.

And yet, from the oily sealskin clothes and boots, from their squat, fat figures, which make it hard to distinguish the men from the women, it was easy to declare the nature of their food; besides, like all fish-eating people, they were somewhat troubled by leprosy, but their general health was not impaired by it.

The Lutheran minister and his wife, with whom the doctor had promised himself an interesting talk, happened to be away on the shore of Proven, south of Upernavik; hence he was compelled to seek the company of the Governor. The chief magistrate did not appear to be very well informed: a little less, he would have been a fool; a little more, and he would have known how to read.

In spite of that, the doctor questioned him about the commerce, habits, and manners of the Esquimaux; and he learned, by means of gestures, that the seals were worth about forty pounds when delivered at Copenhagen; a bear-skin brought forty Danish dollars, the skin of a blue fox four, and of a white fox two or three dollars.

In order to make his knowledge complete, the doctor wanted to visit an Esquimaux hut; a man who seeks information is capable of enduring anything; fortunately the opening of these huts was too small, and the enthusiastic doctor could not get through. It was fortunate for him, for there is nothing more repulsive than the sight of that crowd of living and dead objects, of seal's bodies and Esquimaux-flesh, decayed fish and unclean clothing, which fill a Greenland hut; there is no window to renew that suffocating air; there is only a hole at the top of the cabin which lets the smoke out, but gives no relief to the stench.

Foker gave all these details to the doctor, but he none the less bewailed his portliness. He wanted to judge for himself these emanations sui generis.

"I am sure," said he, "that one could get used to it in time." In time shows clearly the doctor's character.

During these ethnographic studies on his part, Shandon was busying himself, according to his instructions, with procuring means of travel on the ice; he was obliged to pay four pounds for a sledge and six dogs, and the natives were reluctant to sell even at this price.

Shandon would have liked to engage Hans Christian, the skilful driver of the dogs, who accompanied Captain MacClintock, but Hans was then in Southern Greenland.

Then came up the great question of the day; was there at Upernavik a European awaiting the arrival of the Forward? Did the Governor know of any stranger, probably an Englishman, who had come into these latitudes? How recently had they seen any whalers or other ships?

To these questions the Governor answered that no stranger had landed on that part of the coast for more than ten months.

Shandon asked the names of the whalers which had last arrived; he recognized none. He was in despair.

"You must confess, Doctor, that it passes all comprehension," he said to his companion. "Nothing at Cape Farewell! nothing at Disco! nothing at Upernavik!"

"Tell me in a few days from now, nothing at Melville Bay, my dear Shandon, and I will salute you as sole captain of the Forward."

The boat returned to the brig towards evening, bringing back the visitors to the shore; Strong had bought several dozen eider-duck's eggs, which were twice as large as hen's eggs, and of a greenish color. It was not much, but it was very refreshing for a crew accustomed to little but salt meat.

The next day the wind was fair, but yet Shandon did not set sail; he wanted to wait another day, and, to satisfy his conscience, to give time for any member of the human race to rejoin the Forward; he even fired off, every hour, the ship's gun, which re-echoed among the icebergs; but he only succeeded in frightening the flocks of molly-mokes12 and rotches.13 During the night many rockets were set off; but in vain. He had to give the order to set sail.

The 8th of May, at six o'clock in the morning, the Forward, under her topsails, foresail, and main-top-gallant-sail, soon lost sight of the station of Upernavik, and hideous long poles on which were hanging along the shore the seals' entrails and deers' stomachs.

The wind was southeast, the thermometer stood at 32°. The sun pierced through the fog and the ice melted a little.

The reflection, however, injured the sight of many of the crew. Wolston, the armorer, Gripper, Clifton, and Bell were attacked by snow-blindness, which is very common in the spring, and which totally blinds many of the Esquimaux. The doctor advised all, the unharmed as well as the suffering, to cover their faces with a green veil, and he was the first to follow his own recommendation.

The dogs bought by Shandon at Upernavik were rather wild; but they soon got used to their new quarters, and Captain showed no dislike of his new companions; he seemed to know their ways. Clifton was not the last to remark that Captain seemed to be familiar with the dogs of Greenland. And they, always half starved on shore, only thought of making up for it when at sea.

The 9th of May the Forward passed within a few cable-lengths of the westernmost of the Baffin Islands. The doctor noticed many rocks between the islands and the mainland which were what are called crimson cliffs; they were covered with snow as red as carmine, which Dr. Kane says is of purely vegetable origin; Clawbonny wanted to examine this singular phenomenon, but the ice forbade their approaching them; although the temperature was rising, it was easy to see that the icebergs and ice-streams were accumulating toward the north of Baffin's Bay.

After leaving Upernavik the land presented a different appearance, and huge glaciers were sharply defined against the gray horizon. On the 10th the Forward left on its right Kingston Bay, near the seventy-fourth degree of latitude; Lancaster Sound opened into the sea many hundred miles to the west.

But then this vast expanse of water was hidden beneath enormous fields of ice, in which arose the hummocks, uniform as a homogeneous crystallization. Shandon had the furnace-fires lighted, and until the 11th of May the Forward advanced by a tortuous course, tracing with her smoke against the sky the path she was following through the water.

But new obstacles soon presented themselves; the passages were closing in consequence of the incessant crowding of the floating masses; every moment threatened to close up the clear water before the Forward, and if she were nipped, it would be hard to get her out. Every one knew it and was thinking about it.

Hence, on board of this ship without any definite aim, any known destination, which was blindly pushing on northward, some symptoms of hesitation began to appear; among these men accustomed to dangers, many, forgetting the advantages which were promised them, regretted having ventured so far. A certain demoralization became common, which was further increased by the fears of Clifton and the talk of two or three ringleaders, such as Pen, Gripper, Warren, and Wolston.

Exhausting fatigue was added to the moral disquiet of the crew, for, on the 12th of May, the brig was caught fast; the steam was of no avail. A path had to be cut through the ice. It was no easy task to manage the saws in the floes which were six or seven feet thick; when two parallel grooves had divided the ice for a hundred feet, it was necessary to break the part that lay between with axes and bars; next they had to fasten anchors in a hole made by a huge auger; then the crew would turn the capstan and haul the ship along by the force of their arms; the greatest difficulty consisted in driving the detached pieces beneath the floes, so as to give space for the vessel, and they had to be pushed under by means of long iron-headed poles.

Moreover, this continued toil with saws, capstan, and poles, all of which was persistent, compulsory, and dangerous, amid the dense fog or snow, while the air was so cold, and their eyes so exposed, their doubt so great, did much to weaken the crew of the Forward and to act on their imagination.

When sailors have to deal with a man who is energetic, bold, and determined, who knows what he wants, whither he is going, what aim he has in view, confidence animates them all in spite of themselves; they are firmly united to their leader, strong with his force and calm with his calmness. But on board of the brig they were aware of the commander's uncertainty, they knew that he hesitated before the unknown aim and destination. In spite of the energy of his character, his uncertainty was clearly to be seen by his uncertain orders, incomplete manoeuvres, his sudden outbursts, and a thousand petty details which could not escape the sharp eyes of the crew.

And then, Shandon was not the captain of the ship, the master under God, which was enough to encourage the discussion of his orders; and from discussion to disobedience is but a short step.

The malcontents soon brought over to their number the first engineer, who, hitherto, had been a slave to his duty.

The 16th of May, six days after the Forward had reached the ice, Shandon had not made two miles to northward. They were threatened with being detained in the ice until the next season. Matters had a serious look.

Towards eight o'clock of the evening, Shandon and the doctor, accompanied by Garry, went out to reconnoitre the vast plains; they took care not to go too far from the ship, for it was hard to find any fixed points in this white solitude, which was ever changing in appearance. Refraction kept producing strange effects, much to the doctor's astonishment; at one place, where he thought he had but an easy jump before him, he had to leap some five or six feet; or else the contrary happened, and in either case the result was a tumble, which if not dangerous was at any rate painful, for the ice was as hard and slippery as glass.

Shandon and his two companions went out to seek a possible passage; three miles from the ship, they succeeded with some difficulty in ascending an iceberg about three hundred feet high. From that point nothing met their eyes but a confused mass, like the ruins of a vast city, with shattered monuments, overthrown towers, and prostrate palaces, – a real chaos. The sun was just peering above the jagged horizon, and sent forth long, oblique rays of light, but not of heat, as if something impassable for heat lay between it and this wild country.